


Unforeseen Tryst

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, Shin Megami Tensei Series
Genre: Angst and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 16:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20696453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Fox tends to Joker's injuries after a difficult fight in Sae Niijima's Palace; Ren learns that Yusuke harbors doubt about their upcoming plan to foil Akechi Goro. He urges Yusuke to trust his allies, but Yusuke's argument presents a new conflict.





	Unforeseen Tryst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hydrangeatattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangeatattoo/gifts).

He notices there is the absence of a familiar rhythm in Joker's steps.

They crowded around him the minute the gates to the arena slid shut. The faceless person begrudgingly adds the total sum of coins to some invisible pocket space and tells them to get out before he called for security. It was a bluff, but no one chose to call him out on it.

Now, tucked in the safe room at the back of the lobby, Fox rifles through their supplies. A stack of adhesive bandages and a handful of capped syringes with no label on them seem to dominate most of the bag. Morgana wasted no time channeling a healing spell, but still insisted they bandage him up anyway. And if the way Joker moved

(_limped_, his mind corrects)

from one end of the table to the other, Fox had no reason to argue.

There's a scorch mark bitten into the fabric of Joker's pants, right below his kneecap. The mighty swing from the shadow had cut through fabric and flesh like it was paper, and Fox recalls his heart practically clogging his throat when Joker stumbled. He still hears the sound Joker's body made when he crashed against the hard ground. Cognition often hid injuries by gifting them with near-indestructible Metaverse attire. This was not something anyone could overlook as if it were a shallow cut on the arm.

"We still need more coins..." Joker mumbles, more to himself than the others.

Mona huffs, folds his tiny paws across equally-tiny chest. "You’re not fit to go into the maze yet. We’ll need everyone on board. For now, some of us can gather information while the rest can stay on guard.”

Skull leans back in his seat. The chair tilts, balanced on its hind legs and Noir stares at it warily. “What else do we need to take on the maze?” he chips in. “So we go in, use Panther’s fire magic as a flashlight, and bam!, we’re done!”

“And what’re you going to do if I run out of mana?” she counters from across the table.

“We have Joker-- oh…” the front legs of the chair thuds against the floor sharply. He pauses for barely a second when his head snaps to Crow. “What about… whatever the hell Crow uses? That _kouhai_ spell?”

“_Kouha_.” Queen deadpans.

“You should know by now that our skills don’t work like that,” Crow brings a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “Though I commend you for thinking outside the box - especially when our leader is out of commission.”

He’s not sure what it is, but the way Crow refers to Joker sounds almost degrading than concerned. And before Skull can fire one of his infamous ‘teeth-clenching Akechi Goro comments’, the words are leaving Fox’s mouth before he can stop himself. “Do not be so quick to dismiss him,” he says firmly, ignoring the shock that slides onto their faces. “He is our only wildcard for a reason.”

Something flickers in Crow’s eyes, a stark gleam against the mask that shadows his face. A warning in the back of Fox’s mind tells him to mind his place. It reminds him eerily of Joker. This was not the time to be passing quips to their new team member.

But Crow is cunning. He had to be or he wouldn’t have made it this far.

Fox knows that, just as he knows Crow would not hesitate to turn them over to the police the minute the curtains fell on his heist. An utter shame; he would have made a valuable ally. Against the new layer smothering the atmosphere, he chuckles lightly. “Of course. It would be wrong of me to doubt his skill, but you should look at this from a tactical standpoint, Fox. We are at a disadvantage without Joker’s wildcard abilities, nor do we have the time to see who’s skills make the better flashlight.”

Skull scoffs and Fox bristles; neither of them speak.

“_Anyway_,” Queen cuts in. “I agree with Mona. Eavesdropping on the shadows could work to our advantage,” she turns to Joker for a final confirmation. “Will this work? One of us can stay behind to help.”

Fox keeps his eyes trained on the ground, but he feels Joker’s gaze before Queen receives her answer. There’s the idea of leaving someone behind in the safe room. Noir and Panther are the first to volunteer, Crow leaves the room with Skull and Queen, and Fox is startled when his name is called to stay. Mona seems to share the same shock. “Wouldn’t it be better if he were with Crow or Skull?”

“After what just happened?” Joker counters.

He’s not sure why, but the words sting. Shame twinges through him as if he’s been scolded for doing something he’s been told not to do.

(Madarame had stared down at him disapprovingly, mouth pressed into a tight line and waited for Yusuke to explain the spilled paint on the studio floor. “It’s not going to clean itself, is it, Yusuke? When you make mistakes, you’re expected to fix them. Hiding things from people is an unwise decision that will always reap consequences.”

_How ironic for him to have said such a thing_…)

Had Joker truly expected him to instigate a fight with Crow?

“I can stay behind too,” Oracle adds. “And well, _talking_ to people, is…”

“You don’t have to worry about talking,” Noir reassures with a gentle smile.

Panther chimes in, “Eavesdropping is one of your specialties. Think of it as a sidequest that require your Medjed skills!”

Oracle looks at her through slanted eyes. “That was all on a computer and this has nothing to do with hacking…” she wrings her hands, slides the google slowly over her eyes. “Fine, but one of you has to stay nearby. I don’t know how far these guys’ detection meter stretches.” A sigh heaves out of her. “L-Let’s just get this over with.”

Mona springs down from the table the minute the door shuts behind them. “Give us 15 minutes. That should give you enough time to patch yourself up. Shadows can’t detect safe rooms, but be prepared in case we get ambushed. This is the closest one from that maze so we’ll be coming here if it gets too rough.”

“Noted.” Joker mock-salutes.

He waits for the click of the lock before turning to Joker, who’s already shrugging out of his coat. There are no angry cuts that fissure across his skin like the one hiding under his pants. Healing spells worked their magic

(_pun entirely intended_, he thinks smugly)

in the Metaverse, but they had always been advised by Morgana to bandage up deeper injuries. The gash on Joker’s leg was definitely one of them. So Fox is a tad puzzled why Joker is stripping his top when the injury is on his _leg_.

But he supposes it didn’t matter.

“Do you need help?” Fox asks cautiously.

His hand stills its search across the table, fingers brushing aside bandage packages and adhesives alike. He finds what he’s looking for (or so Fox thinks) and stops. Joker avoids his eyes. “What was that?”

He swallows. There is little point in feigning stupidity. “With Akechi?” (Crow, his mind corrects. But the name has already departed from his lips.)

The package rips loudly in the growing silence of the room. “We only have a few hours left,” and he holds the wad of fabric between his teeth as he rolls up the right leg of his pants. Fox pulls his eyes from where the shadow’s blow erupted the skin. He sits across from him and slides the stray disinfectant closer. Joker’s eyes crinkle just so as he applies the gel. It’s not a look that often graced his expression. Seeing it now is unnatural. “Don’t get on his bad side or he’s going to figure everything out.” he warns after pulling the gauze from his mouth.

_I’m sorry_, is what he should say. “You’re being careless,” is what he says instead.

Joker freezes, eyebrow-raised and disbelief tugging at his face. Finally, he challenges, “And your little comment back there wasn’t?”

Fox rises to it. “It was not,” he says coolly, and he feels the press of irritation and impatience rising in his throat. It molds itself into coherent words that stamp on his tongue. “If you paid any attention to how he eyes our teammates or how his mannerism dangles the knife over our necks, then you wouldn’t be as lenient with him.”

“We have a plan, Yusuke,” Joker- no, Ren snaps, fist tightening from where it rests on the table. “You of all people know that. Give him one good reason to suspect we’re up to something, and it’s all over. We wouldn’t have planned this for _weeks_ if I didn’t know what I was walking into.”

“Miscalculations happen.”

“_That_ had nothing to do with ‘miscalculations’. That was you putting your foot in your mouth—”

“—So I allow him to slander you with such nonsense—?”

“—and you were the last person I expected that from. Don’t act like you were trying to defend me.” he rears his seat back, palms down as he pushes to stand. He wobbles and catches himself on the edge. Ren’s discomfort makes itself known in a sharp exclaim, but Yusuke can detect the frustration in his voice as well at his weakened leg. And though they had been arguing _mere seconds_ ago, Yusuke comes around the table anyway, fingers tightening around his forearm as he eases him back onto the seat.

He’s grateful Ren doesn’t fight him.

But he knows he wouldn’t.

Ren could be angry and prideful, but he was not petty.

Silence spills between them. He’s sure to be careful as he peels back Ren’s clothing. The bandage had been placed rather sloppily, and Yusuke’s chest tightens when he realizes they were too busy _fighting_ for him to properly care for himself. He wishes Kamususano-o had _one_ healing skill in his arsenal. Of course, that would have been too easy.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Ren lies; he wouldn’t have fallen had it not. There’s the sound of more medical supplies being shuffled around. “Use this.”

He takes the moderate-sized tube of—

“Relax gel?” he reads.

“Just to numb it a little.”

Therein lies the problem: It was not some antibiotic ointment that would leech away the pain. In fact, Yusuke thinks, numbing it would be the worst option. If he were to rush into battle and unable to feel the waves of pressure and potential ache as he ran through the casino, wouldn’t it aggravate the wound more?

“It’ll be fine,” Ren says, as if he’s read his thoughts. And he very well might have. The Metaverse granted him so odd abilities from the obvious multiple Personas down to a highly trained intuition detectives would commit their own cases for.

(_Did Crow possess a supernatural skill as well?_)

But he does as told, peeling away the bandage, smearing the gel around the laceration, and sticking it back on properly so it doesn’t favor one side over the other. He hadn’t bothered with the disinfectant; that was one thing Ren did right in the midst of their hostile banter.

“I’m sorry,” (Yusuke looks up, “hm?”.) Ren exhales as he collapses back in his seat. “I know you’re worried, but I’ll be okay. You have to trust them - trust _me_.”

“I do—”

“Not fully,” he shakes his head. “Do you remember Madarame’s Palace? We pulled off that heist because we trusted one another; all of us did our part. Since then, we’ve grown stronger, _smarter_. Makoto knows her sister better than Akechi. Futaba already tampered with his phone. We can trust this plan will work.”

Yusuke chews his lower lip, averts his eyes to one of packaging that fell on the ground from Ren’s scuffling. “My trust is not misplaced,” he starts slowly. “You do not have to reassure me of the Phantom Thieves’ potential.” and he pauses. He’s not sure why, but he does. Maybe he’s hoping Ren will interrupt him. Maybe he’s waiting Ren will fill his ears with blind optimism.

Instead, Ren watches him with unreadable eyes beneath his mask.

Sometimes, Yusuke prided himself on being able to read people. But Ren never made it easy for him. The face he wore outside the Metaverse, he came to learn, was false. Every now and then Yusuke could see the crack in his facade. Here, it is as if they’re in Tokyo; he is wearing the wrong face. And Yusuke could read nothing.

“I worry for you,” the words fall to the ground like bricks. “I just hope you understand the weight of our impending situation. If there is even a tiny miscalculation… I’d be devastated. I trust Makoto and Futaba, but I do not have utmost faith in the outside forces of our plan. Akechi has played us once before. He is capable of doing it again.”

More silence. Clunky. Stiff.

The quiet of the room tells him he should get some fresh air. As ‘fresh’ as the casino was, that is. But the idea of stepping onto the black and red rug as cards rained down from some invisible cloud, did little to quell his nerves. He’s not sure he would be able to focus on the art of eavesdropping with the thoughts clogging his brain.

Yusuke starts as Ren’s fingers hook around his mask, prying it from his face with the same deftness he used on the shadows. His grip wraps around Ren’s wrist, stopping him as he begins to pull away, and he sees that Ren has discarded his own. It lies on the table, waiting patiently for whatever events were about to unfold. “What are you doing?”

Ren meets him with no answer. At least not verbally.

He braces himself on Ren’s shoulders when he’s tugged insistently closer. With few space between them, Yusuke has a better view of his eyes. There is always something alluring about Ren and Joker, and a part of him knows why. Gray as smooth slate, yet expressive to the point where it drew everyone’s attention, Yusuke does and doesn’t know what’s so different about Ren’s eyes than Ann’s or even Ryuji’s. But he would feel calm should he stare long enough.

A silent reassurance where words could not fill the despairing void.

From their first meeting where the air tingled and radiated with hostility to the revelation of the ‘_Sayuri_’, Ren knew how to hold the pieces together. Perhaps it was what eventually drew him from a quest of outward beauty to something deeper. It was too soon to say he found what he was looking for, but the way happiness bloomed in his chest the day they accepted their mutual feelings was something he could liken to satisfaction. He had felt complete, as if pieces of a puzzle had clicked together even if the rest had yet to be finished. It didn’t matter though - not then. He was happy and it continued to expand the more he stayed with him.

“I’ll be okay,” Ren repeats softly. Lowered gaze, pursed lips. He reaches for the table and carefully lays Fox’s mask adjacent to his own. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Yusuke nods, but it’s more to distract himself than to agree.

“I’m not leaving them,” he says, drawing him closer and hands coming to rest on his face. “I’m not leaving you.”

Something lodges itself in his throat and though his lips part to speak, he can’t trust his voice. This wasn’t about being alone - he wasn’t a child. But Ren is the last person he wants to lose, and all because of a failed plan. Should he shake him? Should he not listen to his head and speak through the impending tears? Through the taste of salty tears that sticks to the back of his throat, he leans forward, pushes his leg between Ren’s barely parted thighs so that he half-kneels on the chair—

A tremor of laughter spills from Ren’s mouth. He must have sensed Yusuke’s puzzled look because he breaks off, parts his legs a bit more, giggles again. “Sorry…” he says, letting go of Yusuke with one hand to gesture at the capless tube of relax gel. “I feel numb.”

“This?” he leans down, plucking it from the floor. He was numb already? And so quickly too! “It is quite useful and cost efficient…” but he’s careful not to nudge him when he leans once more.

He registers how uncomfortable he is. One of his legs is planted on the floor while the other’s nestled between Ren’s thighs. Then there’s the matter of him bracing himself against Ren’s shoulders and how he has to bend at a rather uncomfortable angle just to _kiss_ him. It’s not what he would have chosen had he knew they were going to be exchanging this type of physical contact.

For as smooth and warm Ren’s lips are, it does little to ease the ache out of his muscles as he strains to stay upright. He pivots forward entirely on accident, kneecap pressing sharply against the front of Ren’s pelvis.

The response is immediate. Their kiss is broken, sharp gasp expelling from Ren’s mouth, and the apologies are already spilling themselves into the open. “Did I hurt you?” Yusuke asks, and realizes how foolish it sounds to his own ears.

Ren shakes his head, hums a negative, and with unexpected boldness, wraps around Yusuke’s waist and pulls him closer. The chair wobbles on its feet. For a brief second, Yusuke’s afraid he’ll wind up kissing the carpet, but none of that happens.

His own breath trembles when he feels Ren through the fabric of their clothes: Half-hard, and they’ve hardly done _anything_, yet… He brushes his knee against him as best he can atop a precarious chair.

Ren sucks in air sharply through his teeth, his legs spazzing in response at the intimate touch. He makes a noise that’s a cross between whine and a laugh. That was right: still numb.

There’s a tugging sensation at his chest followed by the whisper a zipper makes when it’s being pulled down, down, down. “Ren?” and he stops, but so does Yusuke. The ring’s sharp silver glints against the backdrop of Ren’s teeth. His heart races faster and he doesn’t think it’s from his chest being exposed to the chill clinging to the air. “Should we…?” _be doing this now_?

Who knew where the others were? What if they were on their way back? What if some of them were standing outside the door?

The zipper is released from Ren’s mouth, but he takes to using his fingers instead. They slide through it, thumb stroking the curved metal, and the ghost of Joker’s trademark smirk tells him all he needs to know. “15 minutes…” he purrs. “We have time.”

_Probably less than that_. When the top folds of his suit begin to slip on his shoulders, it too pulls away the last vestiges of hesitation. He tugs his arms free before grasping Ren and practically _dragging_ him into another open-mouthed kiss. A shudder races down his spine as the leather of Joker’s gloves caress his bare skin, one stretching down the plane of his stomach before stopping at the waist.

The hands on his body leave and he pulls back at the sound of a bottle being squeezed. There’s a generous amount of gel squelched into Ren’s palm. With a small jerk of the head towards the table, he says, “Sit there.”

So he does. His body feels hot and he already feels his excitement pressing stubbornly against his clothes. The table is only a bit more comfortable than the chair digging into his knee, but it’s much better to be sitting than standing.

“Won’t that make me numb as well?” Yusuke mutters. He doesn’t protest when Ren starts tugging the remainder of his suit down his legs and… hm… No briefs or underwear, it seems. Had it always been like that? It never felt uncomfortable when he was moving or fighting.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Ren says, pulling down his own pants, and Yusuke wonders if the brief smirk that flits across his mouth is from nudging his numb leg or if he’s thinking of something devious. He barely glimpses Ren’s erection until he’s being pinned in place by his lips, being pushed back so that he leans back on his hands.

Yusuke makes a noise when he’s touched, thighs self-consciously try to draw together as Ren caresses him. The gel is trailed behind in tiny streaks, hand moving up and down his shaft at a pace that starts far too slow for his liking. Tremors wrack his body and he maneuvers his hips to a tempo only he can hear, fucking into Ren’s gloved hand. The leather adds a friction that’s absent from the times they’ve done this before, and he tilts his head to the side, eyes slamming shut.

Behind closed lids, flashes of white and bright colors flicker in and out of his blind vision. It is the brink to an end; it as if he’s standing at an edge that promises delicious release. Yusuke’s breath saws in and out of him, fractured by groaning and panting, fingers and toes curling when Ren's pace hastens. He knew which parts where sensitive, which ones wound him up like a spring until he was ready to crack.

Ren takes to his chest, nipping playfully directly above a nipple, and Yusuke gasps sharply.

_It’s too much, he was going to…_

His eyes lift open partway.

The sensations that assault his body begins to dissipate. For a brief few seconds, he feels absolutely nothing. Suddenly it is not pleasure that returns to his nerves, but rather the numbness melts into something almost ticklish. But Ren was doing no such thing to his erection that sat rather proudly in gloved hands. His pace is as firm as when they started, but Yusuke stills his hips, realizing the more he moves the more it chases away delight and beckons a different type of sensitivity.

It feels numb. As if his leg had fallen asleep. Except this is certainly not his leg and it would be impossible to stand on it

(_though that would be an interesting feat should someone attempt it_)

but it still feels good, but it also tickled, and what was _in_ that relax gel?

All it takes is a push in the right (or wrong?) place and Yusuke chokes on a giggle. There’s a brief pause as Ren stills against him, and then he feels it again. He’s still terribly hard and feels ready to burst, but _God_ he’s going to combust in laughter before he comes and it was going to be humiliating. He’s caught between wanting to cry out in pleasure and laugh from the fast-spreading, sensitive numbness of the blasted gel. He laughs, of course.

Ren pulls away from his chest, eyebrows knitted in a near-concerned frown. The look on his face coupled with the fact he _still_ has Yusuke’s dick in his hand breaks whatever dam holding back this odd concoction of amusement.

Yusuke falls back on the table, chortling like a madman. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes and he’s not just laughing at whatever nerves were having a bachelor party in his nether regions.

“...What the fuck, Yusuke?”

“I-It,” he coughs a one-note laugh, then smiles stupidly up at Ren. “tickles. It tickles.”

Ren blinks.

There was something endearing about the cluelessness of his face. He has enough energy to halt his laughter and let it die into heavy exhales, like smothering a dying fire into little embers. And then he goes to move and it lances through his body. Oh dear. This was _not_ going to work. “Could you c-come closer?” Yusuke manages, not trusting his lower body to… well, _not_ tickle.

He’s given a wry smirk in return, but no protest as he clambers onto the table. They try to continue like that: Ren hovering over him on all fours, abandoning his shaft for the time being, and Yusuke tugs at the hem of his shirt insistently. With some struggling, he manages to pull it open in between the heated kisses and brushes of skin. Their chests touch, skin against skin, and Yusuke breathes harshly. It’s less of a kiss and more panting in each other’s mouths. And then Ren is pulling him along as he sits back on his heels, straddling Yusuke’s thighs.

Ren whines against his parted lips. He pulls back and the little pout on his face does little to still Yusuke's giggling. He knows he's grinning like an utter fool, but everything just _tingled_ despite the heat thrumming through his body. It was probably rude too. Here Ren was, bare thighs bracketing his legs and shirt deliciously parted, and Yusuke couldn't still the peals of laughter pushing past his teeth.

"A-Apologies," he stammers, cupping a hand over his mouth. He shifts his leg and- oh, that didn't help. "I-It's too much."

"You're killing the mood," Ren sighs, but there's no malice in his voice. He slides his hips closer until their pelvises touch.

His chuckling breaks into a crumbled "a-ah" when he feels Ren's hardness against his own. There's that tingling feeling leftover from the gel, but it doesn't stop him from lightly rocking against him. Yusuke barely registers the arms coming to drape over his shoulders. His thumbs rub little circles into Ren's hips and the pleased sigh tells him not to stop. But he's doing it more for himself than for him. With each breath of pause between the dance of their bodies, he feels that tickling prodding against his nerves. The corners of his lips lift up just slightly in warning.

Ren shifts against him, sighing as he grinds them together, breath growing more labored. His dark hair brushes against his chest with every subtle thrust.

Yusuke snorts ungraciously.

"Yusuke."

It's awkward. He giggles into Ren's kiss. He tingles with numbness at the tiniest shift, and the far corner of his mind is wondering why they didn't just use lube like regular people... This was more cost-efficient, Yusuke remembers saying earlier, even if it was ruining the atmosphere.

The heat is pulled momentarily along with Ren as he pulls away completely. An apology springs to Yusuke’s tongue, stomach dropping and his mood threatens to buoy like a cork in water. The emotions during such actions were as delicate as glass; creating a crack along the pristine shard is the last thing he wants to do. Yusuke scoots up as best he can with Ren on top. Still ticklish, but he’s reluctant to laugh again.

He licks his lips, slides his eyes to the unfortunate masks that had to bear witness to their clumsy foreplay. “Ren…”

“Mm…”

Yusuke whips his head in the direction of the noise. Previous doubt and thoughts are chased out of him.

The gel bottle is sandwiched between Ren’s splayed hand and the hard wood of the table. His cock bounces as he slowly fucks himself on his fingers. He muffles a whine against the back of his lips, eyes clenched shut and breathing heavy. Sweat gathers on his thighs and legs, precome beads at the tip of his erection, and it takes everything Yusuke has not to tackle him to the floor and push inside him.

His mouth is dry, and for a while he just watches him and grows more aroused by the show. He swallows, moves back the few inches he retreated.

“Y-Yusuke— ah, _God_—” Ren’s reaction is immediate. He squirms atop his lap, hand joining Yusuke’s where he’s grasped the both of them, thumb running over the head, palm and fingers massaging hardened flesh.

There’s a look that always splits itself across Ren’s face during times like these. His eyebrows are wrung together, teeth clenched shut, and he looks as if he’s trapped between excruciating pain and unbearable pleasure. The first time he saw it, Yusuke had stopped, fearing he did something wrong. Ren could be unbearably quiet in bed, but the frustrated whines and suddenly dragging Yusuke’s hand to wherever he pleased told him, No, Ren was certainly _not_ in pain.

His heart’s ready to leap from his chest when Ren smashes their lips together, swallowing Yusuke’s noises and licking into his mouth. And that’s enough for Yusuke to flip their positions. He all but tears Ren’s shirt from his body when they part.

“More…” Ren moans breathlessly. “I’m ready.”

He’s glad because Yusuke’s not sure how much longer he could wait. But he’s still wet from the gel and the precome, and Ren’s so warm and there’s no discomfort when he joins them together.

His hand slaps the table by Ren’s ear (he’d apologize for that later) as every sense is just… _him_. His scent mingled with the accumulating smell of sex. His taste from his lips and skin. His barely-restrained noises as Yusuke rocks in and out of him (slowly. Always slow. At first). The feel of his insides constricting his cock, improv-lube making a rather unflattering noise when he enters from its excessive (and improper) use.

There is a sense of freedom and release that comes with passion. He feels it surge through his veins to his heart when he can just make art without having to think, or when he finds something (some_one_) so inspiring that it is practically a wellspring of unlimited creativity. The passion from sex was entirely different. It brings a sense of unbearable love that manifests in stuttering hips and nonsense words and the _need_ to be joined with another human being.

The passion tingling in his body starts to nudge that stubborn tickle from earlier. The numbness is there, but it is distant. Like the stars that spill across the black waters of the night sky.

“My Ren…” he gasps at the feeling of a thumb grinding itself against his nipples, nails scraping down his back. “Beautiful… I will n-never get enough of you...”

Ren locks his legs around Yusuke's slim waist and arches against him. Yusuke catches sight of the teeth he digs into his own lips. Ren's sudden gasp sounds wet against the air, but Yusuke does not stop.

They kiss. Ren’s soft noises rumble against his mouth and he cants his own hips forward. It chokes out a strangled noise that is nothing unpleasant, and Yusuke nuzzles against his neck. He sucks along the column of Ren’s throat, panting softly in-between when Ren tightens around him both inside and out.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” he says softly. Their gazes lock. Ren’s face is flushed, his kiss-swollen lips parted as he breathes. “I want to hear all of it.”

Their movements grow frantic, bodies writhing against one another and locked in a dance only they knew. It is theirs, and theirs alone, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

There’s the flash of pain as Ren grips his back harder than he intended. His fingers root themselves in Yusuke’s hair and it hurts, but it’s too good. “I’m… ah, _yes_, Yusuke…” and their bodies press together a second time. The room is punctured by their mutual noises of pleasure.

Ren rolls his hips against him, exclaims when he’s thrust into so hard it jerks his body on the table. Litanies and pleas flutter from his lips. Yusuke’s name joins them, rolls off his tongue and he ceases grinding with every thrust so he can touch his own dick.

A familiar curling and heat build in his groin. Yusuke is blind to Ren’s lust-clouded eyes and he grits his teeth, pushing into him once, twice, and he’s buried his face in the space between Ren’s neck and shoulder as he comes with a loud groan. He folds on top of him, pants hard and heavy for a while before reeling up on first his forearm then his hand while he lazily strokes Ren with the other. His flesh is hot and swollen and Yusuke just realizes their gloves are going to be an utter _mess_.

Ren’s back arches and he sobs his pleasure.

For as captivating and breathtaking Ren was before release, nothing could be as inspiring when he did reach that climax. It feels him with a greedy satisfaction, a sense of odd empowerment that he’s the only one to see it.

Ren's ejaculate coughs itself onto their stomachs and spits on his chest. They lay against each other, clambering down from their high together.

“I, um…” he clears his throat a second time. “Inside.”

Ren snorts. “I know.”

And they share a laugh with the little breath left in their lungs.

Yusuke winces as he pulls free and Ren makes a little noise. Come and maybe that relax gel stuff too if he hadn’t already fucked it to the end of his rectum dribbles and spills out. He doesn’t know why he stops and stares, but he does. It was… oddly fascinating. And he’s sure if anyone could hear his thoughts, they’d call him a—

“—Weirdo.”

“How rude.” and he nudges at Ren’s parted thighs playfully.

“_Ah_, don’t, don’t, that… it tickles. Feels like it’s asleep... ” Ren chuckles tiredly. “Damn relax gel…”

“File a complaint,” Yusuke says, hovering over him once more. “Though you _did_ get it for free.”

Ren hums into their brief kiss. “Not really. Where do you think most of our expenses go? And I’ll pass. What would I say? That ‘your relax gel works as lube with _laughable_ side effects but hey, at least it works on dicks’?”

Despite the warning, Yusuke jostles Ren’s legs. The responding “_Yusuke!_” is worth it. Laughter fills his chest and spills in between them.

His eyes have cleared, no longer clouded by lust. There is something lying deep within. It is raw emotion, but it is not uncontrollable either. For a second, Yusuke wants to believe it is something that extends beyond mutual fondness. But he would think on that another time. It felt good to laugh and smile.

And suddenly, the smile flees from Ren’s eyes. Yusuke feels it too, some invisible weight that drags his lips back into a straight line, face relaxing as the reality washes over them like a wave.

This was not Leblanc’s attic nor was it the Kosei dorms. This was a safe room in a Palace full of monsters, and their teammates were out gathering intel while they just finished screwing like a pair of animals in heat.

There was also the plan to consider.

Slowly, they sit up. The earlier mirth is chased out of them and leaves an empty crater in their hearts. Ren’s thumb brushes him right beneath his eye. Yusuke sees Ren’s lingering gaze through the corners of his vision, but he’s too hyper-focused on a bruise sucked into the skin of his throat. He stares without really staring, thinks without thinking.

“I’ll be okay,” Ren says quietly, but it rings hollower, as if he is reassuring more than one person.

And Yusuke pulls him close, holds him, suddenly overwhelmed with not wanting to let go.

Words provided no comfort when fate stacked its odds against them.


End file.
